


Oikawa Tooru Is Not Touch Starved

by Starship_Phoenix



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:54:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28202706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starship_Phoenix/pseuds/Starship_Phoenix
Summary: "Oikawa Tooru was not touch starved. He couldn’t be. His adoring fans hanging off his arms, his family ruffling his hair, the daily high fives and fist bumps and slaps on the back from teammates… it all added up to a lot of the kinds of positive touches the internet assured him were necessary for being a healthy human.Ergo, he was the perfect model of both physical and mental health, and could not possibly be touch starved.But why, then, did he feel like if Iwaizumi wasn’t within close proximity at all times, like if he didn’t touch himright now,it was like he was lost in the middle of a barren desert, like he’d been set adrift at sea, like he was locked in solitary confinement and forgotten about?"---Oikawa decides that the best way to get rid of his crush on Iwaizumi so he can devote his full attention to volleyball is to touch Iwaizumi so much that it no longer affects him. Or in other words, Oikawa is a pining idiot and his genius plan nearly screws everything up, but it all works out in the end.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro & Iwaizumi Hajime & Matsukawa Issei & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 18
Kudos: 198





	Oikawa Tooru Is Not Touch Starved

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alyssannino23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyssannino23/gifts).



> I got into Haikyuu very recently and haven't even watched season 4 yet but it has taken over all my braincells. IwaOi brainrot is a powerful thing XD I ignored so many responsibilities to write this over the last few days lol
> 
> Gifting this to Alyss because I never would have written this without her getting me to finally watch the anime, and also into this ship, and because she let me spam snippets at her as I wrote:')

Oikawa Tooru was not touch starved. He couldn’t be. His adoring fans hanging off his arms, his family ruffling his hair, the daily high fives and fist bumps and slaps on the back from teammates… it all added up to a lot of the kinds of positive touches the internet assured him were necessary for being a healthy human.

Ergo, he was the perfect model of both physical _and_ mental health, and could not possibly be touch starved. 

But why, then, did he feel like if Iwaizumi wasn’t within close proximity at all times, like if he didn’t touch him _right now,_ it was like he was lost in the middle of a barren desert, like he’d been set adrift at sea, like he was locked in solitary confinement and forgotten about, like…

Oikawa groaned and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling of his room. The old glow in the dark stars he and Iwaizumi had stuck there with super glue when they were nine and which were impossible to remove even if he _wanted_ to, mocked him. A reminder of everything that was out of reach. 

Who was he kidding? The perfect model of both physical and mental health? Sure, he was in impeccable physical shape, and if his fans could be trusted, the most gorgeous man alive, and he _did_ have perfect hair that looked wind tousled even on the stillest days, but mentally? He was a _mess._

Having a big fat crush on his best friend was a mistake. One which Oikawa tried very hard to rectify once he realized what was happening, and which he’d _failed_ at rectifying just as hard. It was difficult to admit this mistake to himself, but he was already painfully aware of his biggest flaws, so adding _absolutely garbage at getting over a crush_ to the growing list of Things That Prove Oikawa Tooru Is Not the God He Pretends He Is, was mostly just a matter of being thorough. It’s not like anyone else would ever ever _ever_ know about his feelings. Ever. 

He was going to obliterate his feelings the same way he was gonna obliterate Tobio, or Ushijima, or any of Seijoh’s other enemies. Thoroughly and mercilessly. He was going to stomp them out so he could focus on what _mattered._

But then Iwaizumi would brush up against him during practice, and Oikawa’s heart would skip a beat, and he’d feel like he could do _anything_ and he’d do a perfect toss and Iwaizumi would spike it _beautifully_ and everything was right in the world, if only for a second. 

It was hard to push away something that felt so good.

But it was even harder after, when Oikawa was left with nothing but the ghost of Iwaizumi’s touch, and the painful ache of its absence and the universe’s eternal reminder that he could never have what he wanted.

Which was what had led him to desperately Googling _am i touch starved or just gay??????_ for the eighth time in a single night. (And breaking his previous record of most consecutive identical Google searches: _knee hurts, will it fall off????)_

The verdict was clear. Oikawa was probably not overreacting to Iwaizumi’s every touch because of a totally normal and reversible deficiency in human contact. He was overreacting to Iwaizumi’s every touch because it was _Iwaizumi._

And Oikawa was hopelessly in love with him.

* * *

There was only one solution to Oikawa’s problem: Exposure therapy. 

He was going to touch Iwaizumi _so much_ that it would eventually have zero effect on him. It was a flawless plan, born after a sleepless night he would very much regret the next day, and one he attempted to put into motion the next morning before the first bell rang.

“Iwa-chan,” he cooed, draping himself over Iwaizumi’s back.

Iwaizumi put his hand in Oikawa’s face and shoved him away without looking up from his homework. “Whatever it is you want from me, no. It’s too early and I’m trying to study. Go to your own classroom, asshole.”

Oikawa pulled himself away from Iwaizumi with some difficulty (his back was so broad and warm, and Oikawa was _sleepy.)_

It would be counterproductive to pester Iwaizumi when he was clearly stressed about a test. It would affect not only his grade, but his performance at practice. Volleyball was the important thing. Oikawa’s pathetic attempt to immunize himself to Iwaizumi was secondary. 

“Well then, see you at practice. Try not to fail your test, Iwa-chan!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Oikawa blinked. No insult, no counter. He’d made a good call in taking a step back. He’d try again later. Maybe after practice, after Iwaizumi worked out all that tension from the school day. 

An image of Iwaizumi, flushed and sweaty, popped into Oikawa’s head. He swallowed, suddenly very glad Iwaizumi was preoccupied with his homework and not looking at him. Yeah. He could wait. That image would be enough to sustain him through the rest of the school day. 

Oikawa gave an obligatory cheery wave to the girls walking into the classroom as he walked out, but his smile dropped off his face the moment he stepped into the hallway. He already missed the feeling of Iwaizumi’s body under his.

This was going to be harder than he thought.

\---

Iwaizumi must have passed the test, because he was less distracted by the time practice rolled around. 

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said, slinging an arm around Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “How did the test go?”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, but didn’t push Oikawa away. Oikawa’s heart thumped so hard he was sure Iwaizumi would be able to hear it.

“I couldn’t get your smug face out of my mind the whole time,” Iwaizumi said. _“Try not to fail your test, Iwa-chan?_ Really?”

Oikawa winked. “It worked, didn’t it?” he asked, hoping the sudden panic he felt was properly covered up with a thick layer of confidence.

Iwaizumi punched him in the side. “Fucking aced it. Couldn’t bear to have you holding it over my head if I didn’t.”

Oikawa ginned with relief. 

“Don’t look so pleased about it.”

Oikawa grinned bigger.

Iwaizumi shoved him away. “Come on, we’re gonna be late.”

“Coming, coming!” Oikawa slipped on his shoes and hurried after Iwaizumi. “By the way, Iwa-chan, is that a new shampoo I smelled? Or did you use your mom’s by accident? You smell like a middle-aged housewife!”

“Shut it, Shittykawa!”

“So that’s a yes?”

“I’m gonna smash your pretty face in.”

“So you admit I’m pretty?”

“You won’t be when I’m through with you.”

“Boys, glad to see you finally made it. We’re doing laps.”

“Sorry, Coach! Won’t happen again!”

“Yes sir!”

\---

Iwaizumi, flushed and sweaty from a hard practice, was even better in reality than whatever Oikawa’s mind could ever conjure. 

Nothing sounded better than giving him a perfect toss and having him spike it so hard the sound of the ball hitting the floor reverberated through the air and into his bones. Nothing felt better than saying “Nice kill, Iwa-chan,” holding out a hand for a high-five, and feeling the stinging slap of Iwaizumi’s hand hitting his. Nothing looked better than Iwaizumi’s satisfied grin, his determined eyes, the sweat dripping down his forehead.

And nothing felt worse than not being able to _touch._

Not even in a sexual way. In a purely athletic appreciation, way. Those honed muscles, strong and powerful... What would they feel like under Oikawa’s touch? What would they feel like _touching_ Oikawa? Holding him? Pressed up against him so close their bodies were entwined?

Alright so maybe it wasn’t _purely_ athletic appreciation. 

Oikawa sighed and switched the leg he was stretching. His knee twinged in protest. He was going to have to ice it when he got home. Maybe he could beg Iwaizumi to give him a piggyback ride to his house after practice.

Oikawa let his mind drift into pleasant daydreams as he watched Iwaizumi do his own stretches, imagining Iwaizumi carrying Oikawa in his strong arms, treating Oikawa like royalty… It would be so... _nice._

\---

The piggyback conversation went as follows:

“Iwa-chan!”

“What the hell? Get off me, idiot!”

“Carry me home, Iwa-chan!”

“Why are you so weird!”

“You’re so mean to me, Iwa-chan!”

“Get off me!”

“Ow! Did you just smack me? This is why you never have a girlfriend, you know. You’re so violent - Ow!”

* * *

Oikawa stared at Iwaizumi from across the table and leaned back casually in his seat. The sounds of Matsukawa and Hanamaki arguing over whose turn it was to pay for their post-practice meal faded into background noise as his brain went into overdrive, trying to calculate how he could touch Iwaizumi when he was across the booth from him.

Keeping his face impassive, he slid his foot along the floor until it bumped into Iwaizumi’s. Iwaizumi frowned and moved his foot out of the way. Oikawa sought it out again, nudging it with his own. Iwaizumi’s eyes narrowed as he nudged back, hard. 

A shiver went down Oikawa’s spine. He glanced to the side. Matsukawa and Hanamaki hadn’t noticed anything amiss. 

Oikawa tapped the top of Iwaizumi’s foot with his own. Iwaizumi’s face settled into a blank expression to match Oikawa’s own, and something warm fluttered in Oikawa’s heart, because Iwaizumi knew him so well, knew what Oikawa wanted from him without any words exchanged. 

Oikawa pressed his left foot against Iwaizumi’s shin. Iwaizumi stepped on Oikawa’s right foot, pinning it down into the floor with surprising force. Oikawa wasn’t sure what he expected, certainly not to get away with gently caressing Iwaizumi’s leg with his foot, but in hindsight, he should have known it would turn into a competition.

From the table up, their faces were blank masks, only broken by lips twitching in satisfaction or pain as nudges and steps turned to kicks and stomps. But below the table? It had devolved into an all out war. 

Oikawa was pretty sure whatever this was, wasn’t going to fix his problem, but watching Iwaizumi struggle to keep a straight face sure was fun. 

Until several minutes into their silent under the table battle, when Oikawa noticed Matsukawa and Hanamaki staring at him and Iwaizumi in amusement. Oh. They’d noticed after all. Oikawa let his feet come to a stop. Iwaizumi got one more solid stomp in. Oikawa winced. Matsukawa snorted. 

“Ha! I win!” Iwaizumi shouted. 

“Are you two done playing extreme footsies?” Hanamaki asked. 

Iwaizumi seemed to suddenly remember that they were in public. He flushed a red so deep Oikawa could practically feel its heat across the table. Oikawa wanted to reach across the table and _touch_ how warm Iwaizumi was. Well, he _was_ on a mission to touch Iwaizumi as much as possible so… He leaned forward and grabbed Iwaizumi’s face in his hands. Iwaizumi’s eyes went wide and he jerked back. 

“What the hell? Your hands are so cold!”

“Maybe your face will warm them up then!”

Iwaizumi glared at Oikawa and slapped his hands away. “You’re walking home alone today.”

“But Iwa-chan, we’re going the same direction!”

\---

That night, Oikawa laid in bed, staring up at the glow in the dark stars, and thought of what it felt like to hold Iwaizumi’s face in his hands for two seconds. How _right_ it felt. 

One day in and he was pretty sure his plan wasn’t working. The fact that his hands felt empty and his heart felt emptier ever since Iwaizumi made him walk on the other side of the street on the way home was not a good sign. 

He needed to step up his game. _If you’re going to hit it, hit it until it breaks._

* * *

After a week of touching Iwaizumi as much as he could, in which Iwaizumi resisted Oikawa’s efforts to the best of his ability, the time came for the biggest opportunity of all: a practice match.

Oikawa squeezed next to Iwaizumi on the bus, put his hand on his back at every huddle, brushed up against him as they changed sides of the court after each set, let his fingers linger when he accepted a water bottle held out to him, and bumped fists when they won. 

Each and every touch left him wanting more. 

Oikawa hoped that this was a case of things getting worse before they get better, because the constant reminders that their brief touches would never be permanent was _torture._

\---

Iwaizumi fell asleep on Oikawa’s shoulder on the bus home.

After taking a few pics for blackmail, (because even if Oikawa was in love with Iwaizumi he would never pass up an opportunity to hold a picture of him drooling on Oikawa’s shoulder as hostage. You never knew when something like that might prove useful,) Oikawa allowed himself to indulge in observing every minute facet of Iwaizumi’s facial features.

He looked so... soft. The frown lines had smoothed out, his lips were parted ever so slightly, and his hair… Oikawa would run his fingers through it if he wasn’t sure it would wake his sleeping prince. Instead, he tried to be content with the weight of Iwaizumi’s head on his shoulder. 

It was like an old friend returning home, reminding Oikawa of the days when they were kids, trying to stay awake long enough to see the sun rise, refusing to be the first to give in and fall asleep. Like everything between them, it always turned into a competition, and the loser would get mercilessly teased. But they never stopped trying to see that sunrise together. 

Oikawa didn’t notice falling asleep, but he was fully aware of the moment when he opened his eyes and saw Iwaizumi staring at him, his expression impossibly tender. 

“Were you watching me sleep, Iwa-chan? That’s creepy.”

Iwaizumi’s soft expression melted before Oikawa could memorize it, so fast Oikawa wondered if maybe he had just imagined it, if it was just an afterimage from the dream he’d just woken from. (A dream which had involved quite a lot of… touching. And also aliens? Oikawa couldn’t remember how the aliens had factored into things, but they were definitely there. One of them had looked distinctly like Tobio.)

Iwaizumi opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Matsukawa turning around in the seat ahead of them and showing them a picture on his phone. It was a picture of Oikawa and Iwaizumi, heads together, eyes closed. The orange sunset glow streaming through the bus window illuminated their faces in a soft light.

Oikawa felt his face turn red. 

“You two are so disgusting,” Matsukawa said. “You drool so much I was worried you’d get dehydrated.”

“Mattsun, delete it!” Oikawa reached for the phone, but Matsukawa pulled it away with a smile. 

“Nope, I think I’ll save this one. It sparks joy.”

Oikawa turned to Iwaizumi for help, but he was staring down Matsukawa so intently Oikawa thought one of them might catch on fire. 

Hanamaki turned around to face them too. When he noticed Iwaizumi’s expression, he smiled. “Told you,” he said to Matsukawa. Matsukawa snorted. Oikawa wasn’t sure what was happening. He didn’t like not knowing things. All he knew was that the picture somehow _screamed_ “Oikawa loves Iwaizumi,” and he was sure everyone could see it. 

“Makki!! Make Mattsun delete the picture! I can’t have people knowing I _drool._ It’s so… undignified!” 

“I think Iwaizumi should have a say in what happens with this picture, don’t you?” Hanamaki said, giving a meaningful look that Oikawa couldn’t read to Iwaizumi. 

Iwaizumi was silent for a few seconds. Oikawa held his breath. “Keep it,” Iwaizumi finally said. “I’m sure his fangirls would pay money to see that.”

Matsukawa grinned. Oikawa pouted, but couldn’t say anything else because the bus had pulled up to the school, and the rest of the team had been roused from their post practice game sleepiness and were now in a flurry of activity, grabbing their bags, chattering excitedly to one another.

Oikawa was the last off the bus, his body stiff and sore from sitting in one place for so long after an intense practice match. His right leg buckled a little bit on the last step and he winced. 

Iwaizumi was suddenly right there, his hand around Oikawa's arm, holding him steady.

"I'm fine, Iwa-chan," Oikawa insisted, but he didn't pull away from Iwaizumi’s grip like he normally would have. 

Iwaizumi gave Oikawa a long suffering stare, then dropped his hand. "Come on, Coach wants to have a team meeting."

\---

Oikawa sat down on the floor next to Iwaizumi and pressed his knee against Iwaizumi’s. Iwaizumi gave him a strange look and scooted away. Oikawa moved to slide next to him again, and Iwaizumi glared at him and stood up, giving Oikawa a long look before turning and heading over to where Matsukawa and Hanamaki were sitting. 

The rest of the team stared in silence. Irihata cleared his throat, getting everyone’s attention, and continued his post-game analysis. Oikawa looked at the floor, thoughts swirling uncontrollably.

Was he making Iwaizumi _uncomfortable?_

A wave of self-hatred washed over him. He’d been self-centered again, hadn’t he? He hadn’t once considered how this would look to Iwaizumi. Hadn’t once considered anything but his own goals, his own needs. 

He pursed his lips in thought, weighing the costs and benefits of continuing with this whole _crush the crush into oblivion thing._ Was it worth it? Probably. Hopefully. As soon as he could touch Iwaizumi without feeling like he was on fire, and as soon as he could be apart from Iwaizumi without feeling like he was drowning, things would go back to normal and Iwaizumi wouldn’t think Oikawa was acting any stranger or weirder than normal and they could go back to being best friends.

Right?

\---

Oikawa lingered after the team meeting. A few of the team gave him odd looks when they saw him sitting in the same spot, unmoving, oddly silent, and he must have looked extra pathetic, because none of them said anything. 

Iwaizumi lingered too. "We'll lock up," he told Irihata. 

When they were alone, Iwaizumi turned to face Oikawa. “You’ve been overworking yourself again.”

Oikawa couldn’t deny it. The whole week, he’d been pushing himself harder and harder each day. He was self-aware enough to recognize that it was probably to make up for the weakness that was his feelings for Iwaizumi, not that he could use that as an excuse. 

“Sorry, Iwa-chan,” he said, and laid back on the cold, hard floor. He lifted a leg into the air. “Help me stretch?”

There was a few seconds pause in which Iwaizumi was probably debating furiously with himself. Let Oikawa continue whatever he was doing, or risk Oikawa hurting himself. 

“Alright.”

Oikawa smiled. Whatever discomfort Iwaizumi had with all the touching, he clearly wasn’t _mad._

\---

They were quiet on the walk home. Oikawa walked slowly, still a little sore but not wanting to face Iwaizumi’s wrath if he was caught showing his pain on his face. 

Any time his arm brushed against Iwaizumi’s, Iwaizumi would walk faster for a few steps before slowing his pace to match Oikawa’s again. It was maddening. Oikawa wanted to reach out and hold Iwaizumi’s hand to tether him in place, but any time his fingers touched Iwaizumi’s, Iwaizumi would cross his arms, tucking his fingers out of Oikawa’s reach. 

At the bottom of the large hill that made up the last stretch home, Iwaizumi stopped, sighed, and turned around. “Get on.”

“What?”

“Get on my back. I’m carrying your dumb ass the rest of the way home.”

Oikawa tried not to look too eager as he clambered onto Iwaizumi’s back. Iwaizumi let out a grunt as he adjusted to the weight. Oikawa looped his arms around Iwaizumi and rested his chin on his head. 

“Lead on, my valiant steed!”

“I _will_ drop you.”

“No you won’t,” Oikawa said with full confidence. 

Iwaizumi was silent, which meant Oikawa was right. He pressed his forehead to the top of Iwaizumi’s head and smiled into his hair. Iwaizumi was still using whatever floral shampoo he’d used the other day.

It smelled nice. 

\---

Iwaizumi carried Oikawa all the way to his house, through the front door, and up the steps to his bedroom. 

When Oikawa dismounted, Iwaizumi let out a deep breath. He sat on the floor, his back pressed against Oikawa’s bed while he tried to catch his breath. 

“You’re so _heavy,”_ he grumbled. “How can someone so lanky be so _heavy.”_

Oikawa grinned and sat down next to Iwaizumi. He bumped his shoulder into Iwaizumi’s. “Maybe you’re just weak.”

Iwaizumi froze and leaned away. Oikawa froze too, unsure what was happening, worried he'd screwed up again. Iwaizumi seemed to be having an internal war with himself.

“Why do you keep _touching_ me?” Iwaizumi growled. 

Oikawa had seen Iwaizumi frustrated. He had seen Iwaizumi mad. But he had never seen Iwaizumi look the way he did just then. Oikawa would do anything to wipe away the _hurt_ that had flashed across Iwaizumi’s face. Because of _him._

Oikawa bit his lip. Deep down, some part of him knew this moment would come. Even if he _tried_ to convince himself Iwaizumi was a brick wall who wouldn’t notice what Oikawa was trying to do if he waved a neon sign, they knew each other too well, and Iwaizumi wasn't an idiot. Which meant he would be able to tell if Oikawa tried to lie his way out of this mess he’d created.

But confessing meant the risk of losing Iwaizumi altogether, and Oikawa didn’t think he was strong enough to survive that. Worse than losing to Tobio, worse than losing to Ushijima, would be losing his best friend. 

But he owed Iwaizumi the truth. 

“I was only touching you so much because it hurt too much when I wasn’t,” Oikawa confessed. “I thought… Well I thought maybe if I did it enough, it wouldn’t affect me anymore. I was scared. Of the feelings I have for you, and of you not feeling the same. So I tried to get rid of them.”

“You…” Iwaizumi’s face twisted into a complicated, unreadable expression. 

“Please don’t hate me, Iwa-chan. I was doing it for both of us. So our performance doesn’t suffer.”

A muscle in Iwaizumi’s jaw twitched. Oikawa realized he probably shouldn’t have mentioned volleyball, even if he was only saying it to deflect from the truth. Iwaizumi could tell he was still holding back. That jaw muscle always twitched when he thought Oikawa was being an idiot and prioritizing the wrong things. 

“So our _friendship_ doesn’t suffer,” Oikawa admitted. “I know you don’t feel the same way, so I wanted to make the feelings go away so we could still be friends without it _hurting._ ”

“You…” Iwaizumi grabbed Oikawa’s shirt in his fists. Was he going to punch Oikawa? He probably deserved it. He braced himself. He wanted to remember this moment, because it was probably going to be the last time Iwaizumi _ever_ touched him. 

“Oikawa you fucking _idiot.”_ And then Iwaizumi pulled Oikawa towards him and smashed their lips together. 

It wasn’t the soft, tender kiss Oikawa had imagined when he daydreamed at school, or the hot passionate kiss he imagined in his bed at night. It was Iwaizumi’s lips pressed against his so hard he thought they might bruise. It was Iwaizumi’s hands tangling in Oikawa’s hair in an inescapable grip. It was far more teeth than he’d envisioned, and noses bumping awkwardly into each other, and Oikawa not really knowing what to do with his hands.

It wasn’t a good kiss, all things considered. But it was also so much better than any kiss Oikawa had ever pictured. Because it was _real._

Iwaizumi pulled back. He was breathing heavily. Oikawa wasn’t sure how Iwaizumi could be so out of breath, considering he’s stolen the air from Oikawa’s lungs. 

“Iwa-chan…”

“No,” Iwaizumi said firmly. “For once in your life, don’t say anything. No witty responses. Let me talk.”

Oikawa nodded. Iwaizumi took a deep breath.

“You want to know why I’ve been pulling away from you? Why was I so upset by all the touching? Because it _hurt,_ Oikawa. It hurt having you so close when I knew I could never have you the way I wanted you.”

It was like the world had tilted on its axis, like the north star was pointing in a new direction, like the sun was illuminating something that had always been in shadow. It was like the moment when Oikawa noticed an opponent’s block had a hole in it. Like before there’d been an impenetrable wall, but suddenly, there was _a chance._

“Iwa-chan...”

“I thought if I pushed you away, put some distance between us, I’d be able to move on, and we could go back to being friends and it wouldn’t hurt to be next to you. But then you kept _touching._ I tried to make the feelings go away, but it was impossible to do when you were always there, never giving me space to breathe. And I felt like I was drowning." Iwaizumi took a shuddering breath. "And I loved every second of it.”

Oikawa stared in disbelief, then laughed weakly. “I can’t believe that you were trying to do the same thing as me but with the _opposite_ tactic. I’m sorry, Iwa-chan. If I had been better, if I had known you had feeling for me... I would _never_ have hurt you on purpose.”

“Why did you think I always drag you away from your fangirls?”

“Because you want to make sure my head doesn’t grow so big I can’t get off the ground?” Oikawa joked. 

Iwaizumi shoved half-heartedly at Oikawa. “No, dumbass, because I was jealous that they had your attention and I didn’t.”

“Oh. But Iwa-chan, you _always_ had my attention. Even when you weren’t by my side, I was thinking of how much nicer it would be if you were.”

Iwaizumi’s lip wobbled. He pulled Oikawa towards him and buried his face in the crook of Oikawa’s neck. His arms wrapped tight around his body. He may have hidden his face, but Oikawa knew him too well. He was trying not to cry. 

“That’s so fucking cheesy,” Iwaizumi mumbled. 

Oikawa hugged Iwaizumi back, closing his eyes tight so his own tears would not fall. 

They sat like that for a while, limbs tangled, chest to chest, soaking in each others’ presence. Allowing themselves the touch they thought they couldn't have. And then, when Oikawa’s knee began to protest, they shifted, and Oikawa laid his head on Iwaizumi’s lap and looked up at him and the glow in the dark stars above his head. 

Not so out of reach after all. 

“I had a crush on you first, you know,” Iwaizumi said as he lazily ran his fingers through Oikawa’s hair.

Oikawa sat up in surprise. “What? No way. Impossible. I would have noticed.”

Iwaizumi snorted. “You’re so single minded on volleyball, of _course_ you didn’t notice.”

“How long?”

Iwaizumi flushed and looked away. Oikawa grabbed his hands. 

“How long,” he repeated desperately. How long had his best friend been in love with him _without him noticing._ How long had he been so self-centered and selfish that he _didn’t know?_

Iwaizumi didn’t answer, just laced his fingers together with Oikawa’s. They hadn’t held hands like this since they were kids, hiding under the covers during a scary movie. Hadn’t held hands like this since getting lost between their school and their neighborhood, taking a shortcut they’d never taken again. 

Hadn’t held hands like this since the day before their first day of middle school when Hajime called him Oikawa instead of Tooru, and Oikawa, in a panic, afraid that his best friend suddenly and inexplicably hated him, afraid that people would just think they were casual acquaintances if he called him Iwaizumi, that they would be teammates and nothing more than that, called him Iwa-chan in response. And Iwaizumi had flushed bright red at the new nickname but he’d never _seriously_ tried to get Oikawa to stop calling him Iwa-chan. 

That had been the first time Iwaizumi began to pull away. 

“Oh.”

“You may be really observant when it comes to volleyball, but you can be really oblivious when it comes to anything else.”

This was worse than losing a volleyball match. How could he have fucked up so bad? All those _years._ All that time, Iwaizumi thought he never had a chance. All that time, Oikawa had been hurting him. His chest felt tight. The room was spinning. He felt sick. 

Iwaizumi cradled Oikawa’s face in his hands, bringing him back to reality. “Look at me. Oikawa. Look at me. Breathe with me.”

Oikawa _couldn’t_ breathe. He felt like he was about to explode and the only thing keeping him together was Iwaizumi’s rough and calloused hands, holding him with impossible gentleness like the slightest move in the wrong direction would break him. Oikawa was intimately familiar with the power contained in those hands. He loved that about him, after all. They were evidence of his dedication and skill and the bond between setter and spiker. But he’d never known Iwaizumi’s hands could be so soft. Any soft touch had to be deliberate. Purposeful.

Oikawa Tooru was not touch starved. But there was a difference between the brief, casual, _platonic,_ touches he got on a daily basis, and whatever _this_ was. It was overwhelming. All consuming. He never wanted it to end. 

He brought his own hands up to join Iwaizumi’s, his long fingers enveloping them. He sought out the pulse points at Iwaizumi’s wrists. 

He breathed in time with the beating of his best friend’s heart. 

A tear slipped out of his eye. Iwaizumi brushed it away with his thumb. 

“You made me cry, Iwa-chan. How mean.”

“Well, you made me cry too, so all’s fair.” 

And Iwaizumi wasn’t lying. His eyes were also glistening with tears. Oikawa watched as one slid down his cheek. Oikawa sniffled. Iwaizumi sniffled too. For a second, they sat awkwardly on Oikawa’s floor, the only sounds those of their snorts and sniffles as they tried and failed to stop crying. 

“You look ugly when you cry,” Iwaizumi said, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Well, so do you,” Oikawa shot back. “So there.” He stuck his tongue out for good measure. Iwaizumi laughed, and Oikawa thought that he had never heard anything prettier. 

Iwaizumi could never be ugly. He was too good. Oikawa was the ugly one, the one who’d been breaking his best friend's heart. 

“Hey. I know what you’re thinking. Stop that.”

“But Iwa-chan-”

“Don’t put all the blame on yourself. This was a team effort, okay? You’re wrong if you think you messed everything up. I deserve at _least_ half the blame for not realizing that you had feelings for _me.”_

Oikawa teared up again. Iwaizumi was always good at hitting Oikawa in just the right spot to break him out of the thoughts trying to devour him.

Oikawa reached for Iwaizumi’s hands. Their fingers entwined like they were built to connect. Iwaizumi’s hands were rough and calloused, but when Oikawa leaned in to kiss him, his lips were soft. 

Their second kiss was slightly salty from all the crying, but Oikawa didn’t mind. It was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like the tone of this fic shifted as I wrote it, but for it being my first haikyuu fic, and for only having read a handful of fics and not having the most in depth understanding of the characters because i've only been in the fandom for a few weeks, I'm pretty happy with how it came out! I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if you think the characterization was good, because I always worry about that:') 
> 
> Also I already have another IwaOi fic in the works so keep an eye out for that :D
> 
> (and if you're into bnha, and specifically the league of villains, that's where I spend most of my writing juice, so check out my other fics if you're into that sort of thing;)


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